Page 174 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

His brother’s eyebrows shot high, and he turned his focus to his cake. He said nothing, just as Azriel kept his mouth shut. That was a discussion between sisters for now.

Ariadne cast him a withering stare and sighed before saying, “Madan is our half-brother.”

The sound which erupted from the visiting Caersan women was akin to a stadium’s roar. Ariadne laughed as their questions—only half-formed—overlapped one another. How did they know? Which parent did they share? Are they certain? Could it not be a trick? Why were they not told?

On and on they went until Ariadne held up a hand and shook her head. “You cannot tell a soul…Camilla.”

Their friend’s jaw dropped in feigned indignation. “How could you think so lowly of me?”

“I think,” Ariadne went on, “you have more of a mind for gossip than secrecy. I am trusting you.”

Laying a hand over her heart, Camilla smirked. “You have my word.”

Azriel leaned forward. “He is also my half-brother.”

In an instant, Emillie’s face twisted in disgust and looked between him and Ariadne. “Excuse me?”

“They share a mother.” Ariadne pointed between him and Madan. Then she pointed between Madan and them and continued, “We share a father.”

Revelie gasped, her eyes widening. “You two are the first Harlow family!”

Beside her, Emillie gaped. “I thought they were murdered.”

“That,” Ariadne cut in with a stern voice, “is a long story to be saved for another time.”

“You cannot leave us dangling on the precipice of understanding your father’s past,” Camilla said in an outraged tone. “We need to know!”

Ariadne’s smile grew. “But then what would be enticing you to visit us in Monsumbra?”

To visit us. The words were music to his ears, despite the fresh wave of loud questions.

Azriel leaned back in his chair and smirked at his brother. Madan shook his head in silent reply. With his wife holding his hand and his brother safe by his side, Azriel could accomplish anything—even governing a province and convincing the Council to choose peace.

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